


Like Clockwork

by ScarletteWrites



Category: 9 (2009)
Genre: Autistic Original Character, Backstory, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Stimming, Time Skips, Vocal Stimming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-28 00:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18200801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteWrites/pseuds/ScarletteWrites
Summary: Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.That was all they could hear. Their optics refused to open, their limbs refused to move. But they could hear, and that’s all they could hear. They couldn’t tell if it had been minutes or hours, but eventually they fell back asleep.Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.The story of Tick Tock, the forgotten stitchpunk.





	1. Time is Fake, Clocks are Real

The Scientist sighed, cradling the still unmoving stitchpunk in his hand. He wasn’t sure what had happened - everything was fine for One and Two and Three and Four - for some reason this one would not wake up. He knew what he had to do, he had to start over from scratch. He gave them a gentle caress across their head, smiling down at them.

“I wish I could’ve met you. The others would have adored you, I’m sure.”

He took what he needed, a few wires, the voice box, bits of fabric. He tried to replace every piece he took from them with something similar, if glitchier, thinner or less durable. Even though they technically had never come to life, he felt bad leaving them in pieces.

He placed them in a small box, closed the lid, and began to work on his next stitchpunk.

 

* * *

 

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

That was all they could hear. Their optics refused to open, their limbs refused to move. But they could hear, and that’s all they could hear.  They couldn’t tell if it had been minutes or hours, but eventually they fell back asleep.

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

 

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

The second time they woke up, it was different. They could hear clearer now, not just the ticking noise. They could hear voices, too hushed for them to understand but they knew it meant they were not alone. They still couldn’t see so they tried calling out, but no words came. They kept trying, and trying until eventually they’d exhausted their body so much they fell back asleep. The ticking continued.

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

 

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

This time their optics opened. They were in a small place, and it was warm. They liked that it was warm. They were lying on a soft, dark purple fabric. They wished they could move their fingers to hold it. Outside, one of the voices had disappeared but the other was still talking. They couldn’t make out what he was saying.

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

 

_ BANG. _

They tried to sit up, hitting their head on the top of the box. As they fell back they felt woozy. Everything fell into darkness quickly - too quickly. Would they even wake up this time?

Instead of the familiar ticking, they fell asleep to the sound of sirens.

_ WHHHHRRRRRRR. WHHHHHRRRRRR. WHHHHRRRRRRR. WHHHHHRRRRRR. _

 

_ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

They almost felt like crying as they opened their optics. They thought for sure they were never going to wake up again. Every part of them felt achy and tired but they were alive.

As they properly woke up, it finally registered that something was different about their surroundings. Their fingers scratched the floor and it felt… different. There was a soft pressure on their back and overall it seemed much lighter than it usually was. They pushed themselves forward, ordering their body to stand. And as the did, the fabric fell away from their face and for the first time, they saw the sky.

It was night, the stars twinkling softly in the burning light of the city. They turned towards the only light source, a single candle on a desk. Next to it was a man, old and withered and so, so tired.

They wrapped themself the cloth that had been with them since they first woke up, and snuck out the open window. They gave one last glance around the room, to their creator, the papers that surrounded him and to the clock that had kept them company whilst they had been alone.

The streets that night were silent, save for the soft ticking of the lone stitchpunk.

“Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.”

 

* * *

 

The morning came, and they quickly realised it would not be as quiet as their first night was. Humans were running, shouting and the machines were rampaging and killing everything in sight. They huddled up in a corner, hoping to hide and praying to a God they couldn’t comprehend that they wouldn’t be found or stepped on. It continued like that for hours, until the machines began dropping gas, and the humans went quiet. They willed themself not to make a sound, not even their comforting ticking, for they would be heard and spotted.

Under the cover of night, they ran into the safest looking building they could find, and decided to just wait. After all, they spent so long in that box…

What’s a little more time?

“Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.”

 

* * *

 

Two glanced around the familiar street, Seven lagging behind a few feet to watch out for machines.

“One’s gonna kill you,” Seven said, adjusting her grip on her spear, “You know that, right?”

“You’re sneaking out here too.”

“Yeah, but he expects  _ me  _ to run off.” Seven replied, “Plus, I can defend myself.” She added whilst giving him a playful nudge. Two laughed.

The inventor kept looking through scrap left on the streets, “Perhaps so.” He picked out a lense from a broken pair of glasses, “I suppose we’re just going to have to find something so valuable he can’t get mad, eh?” He suggested with a smile.

“What are we looking for?” Seven asked.

Two hummed, “Well, this lense should work well as a magnifier - making more detailed work easier.” His optics landed on a familiar store, “Didn’t Six mention he was running out of ink and paper? We should grab some for him.”

Seven rolled her eyes, following after the inventor. One was absolutely going to lose it if he found out they’d left the sanctuary for  _ ink and paper. _

Two was first in the store, and he heard something odd. Seven was speaking behind him but stopped when the inventor held his hand out.

“Do you hear something?” Two whispered, glancing about the store.

Seven listened closely, then she heard it.

_ “Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.” _

“Stay here.” She whispered to Two, before cautiously heading into the store.

Two’s worried voice called after her quietly, “Be careful.”

Seven nodded, but didn’t respond verbally. She followed the noise into the store, trying to make as little noise as possible as to not alert whatever was making that sound. She rounded a corner to see paper, ink and paints covering the floor, with a lump covered in fabric right at the end. Seven moved along the shelves to get closer without being seen. When she landed in front of the fabric it flinched but didn’t move to attack her. Curious, Seven lifted up the fabric with the end of her spear.

“Two!” She called out, “You’re going to wanna see this.”

 

* * *

 

“Hello there.” Two said to the strange stitchpunk, who just seemed to flinch back, “I’m Two, and this is Seven. What’s your name?”

The ticking got louder as the stranger looked between the pair of them.

“Two. Can they even speak?”

Two’s smile dropped slightly, “I’m… not sure. They can vocalise - that ticking is coming from and controlled by them, but speaking…” Two turned back to the stitchpunk, “Well. I should be asking you: can you talk, little one?”

They looked up at Two with wide optics, pulling the fabric tighter to themself, “Talk.” They parroted, in an exact copy of Two’s voice.

Two’s smile brightened, Seven flinched back.

“How-?” The warrior asked, looking between Two and the stranger, “How did they just...?”

Two turned to Seven, “It seems like our new friend might have a talent of mimicry - they can’t make words on their own, but can copy others!” He turned back to the stranger, “How long can you keep mimicking things?”

They blinked, before responding, “Mimicking things?”

“This may be harder than I first thought,” Two mumbled, placing a hand on his chin. When he looked up he noticed the other stitchpunk had attempted to copy his body language, only to get their arm caught in their cape. Two rushed forward and helped them out, “Ah, no no. Don’t struggle so much. You’ll tear something.”

They stretched out their arm, looking it over for damages. Once confirming everything was fine they pointed to the patch on Two’s head, “Tear something.” They repeated.

He took their hand, they flinched away. Two winced a little, “No, dear. I was just made like this.” Two sat down next to them, “You’re voice. Were you made like that or were you in some sort of accident?”

“Made like this.” They replied. They then pointed to themself, “Accident.”

Two laughed, “You’re not an accident. You’re like us,” He gestured to Seven, the stranger stared at her - as if noticing her for the first time, “a stitchpunk.”

They turned sharply back to Two, leaning a little closer, “Stitchpunk.”

“And there a quite a few more like us, I assure you. They’re a lovely bunch,” Seven winced, Two’s smile faltered, “well… most of them. I’m sure they’d all be excited to meet you.”

They shot up, taking Two’s hands in their own and they bobbed up and down slightly, “Excited. Excited.”

Seven smiled. The twins were going to love this one.


	2. The World Doesn't End, It Just Feels Like It Does

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two and Seven take their new friend back to the Sanctuary.

When Two attempted to pick up an inkwell, their new friend shot up and tried to hold it for him. Two flushed, smiling nervously at the other stitchpunk.

“It’s fine, dear. I can carry it.” He said.

The stranger shook their head, “Struggle.” They said, pointing at Two. They then pointed to themself, “Don’t.”

Seven rolled her eyes, “Two. Just let them carry it. They’re trying to help.”

Two gave a mock resistance before handing the inkwell over and beginning to walk, he then encouraged the stranger to follow when they didn’t move. The stranger blinked, waiting a few seconds before getting the hint and following them. Despite this the other stitchpunk seemed happy, making a strange whirring noise as they scuttled along behind Two and Seven.

Seven allowed herself to fall back slightly so she could get a better look at the new stitchpunk. They didn’t look like much of a fighter, but they seemed pretty strong - maybe not as strong as Seven and especially not Eight but stronger than most. The stranger noticed Seven staring and made a tick in her direction.

Seven couldn’t help herself - she laughed. The poor stranger looked so confused.

Noticing their expression Seven abruptly stopped, “Sorry, it’s just…” She shrugged, “I wasn’t expecting that. When someone stares at you, you’re supposed to say something like, ‘What do you want?’”

“What do you want?” They parroted.

“Good!” Seven clasped her hands together, “And if someone asks if you can speak, you can try and say: ‘not really’”

They nodded, “Not really.”

“And if someone says something that you don’t like you say: ‘go fuck yourself!’”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Seven!” Two scolded, he had an expression that was intended to be angry but on his face just looked comedically ruffled.

Seven laughed, and the stranger copied her. As much as Two wanted to be angry with Seven he couldn’t bring himself to - their new friend needed a way to set boundaries and (even if Two disagreed with the language used) that was a good start. Two allowed himself a small laugh as well, and they all headed on their way.

 

* * *

 

 

They made it back to the Sanctuary quicker than usual. The moment they entered the cathedral the stranger began running around, looking at everything they could. Two chuckled at their excited behavior.

“Having fun?” He asked.

The stitchpunk spun around, “Wanna see this.” They replied in Seven’s voice. They gestured around the place, vocaliser spitting a strange sound - almost as if they were trying to explain but didn’t have the words for it.

Seven walked up, nudging Two with her shoulder to get his attention, “Do you think we should… try and fix that?”

Two blinked, when he turned back to the stranger they were holding the inkwell in one hand, using the other to touch a piece of fallen wood. They’d started ticking again. “I’m not sure if I can - or if they’d even want me to.” Two shrugged, “They seem… happy.”

“Couldn’t hurt to ask.”

“I suppose not,” Two replied, he walked over to the stranger, tapping on the wood to get their attention, “Would you like me to have a look at your vocaliser? It might allow you to speak, like we can.”

They blinked, “Made like this.”

Two nodded, “That’s perfectly understandable.” He took their hand - slowly this time, to give them the chance to pull away (they didn’t) - before continuing, “If I had a gift like yours, I wouldn’t risk losing it either.”

They tilted their head, “Gift.” They mimicked, with a puzzled look on their face.

Two was about to reply when he was cut of by Seven, “Incoming!” She called out, gesturing to the bucket lift. She leaned towards Two, “How much trouble do you think we’re in?”

Two didn’t respond, the stranger hid behind both of them - pulling their hood down to cover their face.

Much to both Seven and Two’s surprise - it wasn’t One and Eight coming down to meet them. It was a very worried looking Five.

“You guys are in so much trouble.” Five muttered, rushing over to give both of them a hug.

Two laughed and gave Five a pat on the head, “Well, I think we found something important enough One might just have to forgive us.” Two stepped out the way, revealing the stitchpunk stood behind him.

Five looked confused, until his eye landed on the new stitchpunk. Five broke out into a genuine smile, “You guys found another one.” He said, rushing over to meet them, “Hey, I’m Five! I guess you must be Nine, hu?”

Their ticking got louder, and they glanced over at Two begging for assistance. The inventor spoke for them, “I’m afraid this isn’t Nine. Poor dear doesn’t even  _ have  _ a number.”

Five looked between the ticking stranger and Two, “You don’t… have a number?”

“Isn’t Nine.” They mimicked.

Five shot back, with Seven grabbing his shoulder, “Uh- how did they just-?”

“They can copy sounds,” Seven interjected, “Duh.” She added sarcastically, giving Five an affectionate (if hearty) back pat.

“So, what have you been calling them?” The room was silent except for the newcomers ticking, Five groaned, “You didn’t even name them! You’ve been with them all day and they don’t even have a name!”

“Who doesn’t have a name?”

The group turned around sharply, in the commotion of Five meeting their new friend, no one had noticed One and Eight following the young apprentice.

Two, instead of looking afraid or confrontation, smiled and attempted to show off the new stitchpunk, “Our newest arrival. We found them-”

“After sneaking out. After I directly told  _ both  _ of you I did not want you wandering about in the Emptiness with that Beast wandering about.” One interrupted.

The new stitchpunk tilted their head, stepping towards One, “Beast.” They repeated.

Two placed a hand on their chest and gestured for them to stay where they were and to be quiet, they just looked confused. One was surprised, while Eight seemed alarmed by their ability. One attempted to walk towards them, but Two stepped out between them both, “One, listen-”

One continued trying to walk towards them, “How did they just-”

“There’s something wrong with their vocaliser - they don’t want it being fixed, please just-”

Eight tried to move towards Two, but was stopped by Seven. Five was looking desperately between One and Two, mumbling for them not to start fighting. The ticking started again.

“What are they doing now?” One hissed.

“I-I don’t know,” Two said, “I think they’re like Six, I think it calms them down. Please, One, just let me deal with them-”

“They could be dangerous,” One said, “They don’t even have a number! How do we know they’re not some kind of machine in disguise?”

“One just listen to yourself!” Two snapped, and the tension in the room hit a razor point. Seven and Eight turned towards the older stitchpunks, One took a step back, Five looked horrified and the ticking just got louder, “They’re scared! Look at them, One, they’re young, and they’ve been dragged to this strange place and been yelled at by people they don’t know. All they’ve done since we’ve met them is try and help us - I don’t see any reason to distrust them.” Two huffed, gently rubbing his face with a hand, “If you’re so worried, I’ll keep them down here tonight,” One was going to speak, but Two interrupted him, “I’m staying with them. And if you all wake up in the morning and I’m in pieces well…” He paused, “I made my choice. And I’m happy with it.”

One huffed, “So be it.”

With that, One turned around and left. Eight following behind him. Seven snarled and muttered something under her breath. Five rushed up to Two, gently pressing a hand to his mentor’s back.

“Are you alright?” Five asked.

“Fine, fine.” Two mumbled, before looking up to Five with a smile, “It’s been a while since I've shouted at him like that.”

Five smiled, giving Two a pat. The one-eyed stitchpunk then turned to their ticking friend, who had curled up under their cloak and seemed to be rocking back and forth, “Tick Tock, you okay over there? I promise, One isn’t usually that… crazy.” He said, walking over to them.

The stitchpunk paused, going almost deathly still, “Tick Tock.” They repeated, a confused look on their face.

Five shrugged, “Well. I don’t like calling you nothing, and you keep making that ‘tick tock’ noise so,” He smiled, offering them a hand, “How do you feel about Tick Tock?”

“Tick Tock,” They said, a smile spreading onto their face, “Made like this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obligatory critical role reference out of the way.  
> one is Bastard and i like him so much. five is the Sweetest and just!! theyre all fantastic. i love them  
> also tick tock gets mcfuckin named, so i can CALL THEM BY THEIR NAME IN THE NARRATION JESUS THAT WAS A NIGHTMARE TO WRITE  
> chapter 3 is gonna be tock meeting six and the twins, maybe nine if i can squish him in.

**Author's Note:**

> it was legitimately bizarre writing this with an actual clock in the background just... doin its ticking.  
> ive had tick tock since i was around 11 years old and after re-watching 9 recently i decided to do a lil spring cleaning and spruce the little cutie up a bit. them being autistic has always been a massive part of their character, since i came up with them around the time i was diagnosed myself, and thus had a words to describe what was happening to me and how i felt.  
> you can find their bio on my [tumblr](http://5carletterose.tumblr.com/post/183633325928/i-found-a-fair-few-milliseconds-im-prepared-to) w a bit more info abt the previous version of tock.  
> might do a part two where they officially meet the rest of the Gang(tm) but for now *jazz hands*


End file.
